


Control

by someones_sweetheart



Category: Glee
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Eating Disorders, Gen, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-27
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-26 14:30:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someones_sweetheart/pseuds/someones_sweetheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the following prompt on the Glee Angst Meme:</p><p>"Finn has an eating disorder because of Santana"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

_Fatty. Gassy. McGravy Pants._

 _Double-Stuffed._

 _Bacon-Wrapped Bug-Eyed Hypocrite._

 

Her words have been running through his head all day. She’s right, ok, he knows he’s gross and fat and huge. After all, people needed _counselling_ after he walked down the hall in his boxers last year. He gets it, ok. He just wishes Santana’d shut the fuck up about it, because, one day soon he knows that Rachel’s gonna sit up and listen and actually see what everyone else sees him as - the big fat idiot that he really is. A big fat idiot that she’s far too good for.

After practise that day, he’s examining himself in the mirrors in the locker room, and yeah, Santana’s definitely got a point. Today, he’s going on a diet.

So when his mom and Burt suggest that they go to Breadstix for family Friday night dinner that week he tries not to order too much – the same small, low-fat pasta that Kurt orders and glass of water. His mom gives him this weird worried look when he tells the waitress what he wants, but that’s just cause she’s so used to him being a pig.

Then Burt announces that he’s gonna run for congress. And when he asks what that, y’know, means for them as a family, he’s kinda unprepared for the reply.

“Kurt’s gonna be in college, and you’re gonna be…technically an adult too…”

His step-dad’s words hit like punch in the gut. Great, even his family think he’s not really going anywhere. Most of the rest of what Burt says feels like white noise. He wonders briefly if he should thank Santana, at least she’s honest with him. He takes a swig of his water, and pretends to be interested in taking over the tire shop.

When Coach Sylvester arrives with, like, this monster burger, he can see Kurt roll his eyes. She says a bunch of stuff that kinda goes over his head to Burt and after she’s gone, his family’s watching him so he does what he knows everyone expects his big fat greedy self to do.

“Anyone mind if I just dig in…?”

The conversation goes on around him. He eats until it hurts. And then he eats some more.

 

*  
He’s trying to fall asleep that night but her words just won’t leave him alone after the whole burger thing.

 _Fatty. Double-Stuffed. Bacon-Wrapped._

The weight of the burger sits heavily in his stomach and he just wants to rewind time, to go back and not eat it. If he keeps doing stuff like this, he’s just going to keep getting fatter. Then he’ll be even more pathetic.

Maybe…he could…kinda get rid of it?

He knows making himself sick’s a dumb idea but then so was eating the Gut Buster Extreme. And he’s Finn Hudson – dumb ideas are kind of his MO.

 _I’d pay a hundred bucks to jiggle one his man boobs_ , he remembers.

And yeah, he’s not about to give her any more material.He gets up and goes to the bathroom. Sticking a finger down his throat seems like some girly cliché but he knows his mom’s got a bottle of Ipecac in the medicine cabinet.He unscrews the cap and it smells kinda nasty.

“Here goes,” he mumbles to himself, downing a swig. It tastes horrible and oily sliding down his throat. He rescrews the cap and puts the bottle back where he found it. At first nothing happens. He sits beside the toilet, his stomach growling at him, for about twenty minutes as he grows queasy and uncomfortable. Until his stomach cramps sharply and he has to launch himself over the toilet bowl, just making it before, like, a super gross explosion of barf is coming up.

The bathroom door squeaks open.

And oh crap, why the hell didn’t he lock it?

“Hey bud, not feeling good?” Burt’s voices asks from the doorway.

Finn’s kinda too busy worshiping the porcelain god to reply. Burt comes into the room and sits on the side of the bath tub, reaching out and gently rubbing Finn’s back until he’s done. Finally sure that he’s not gonna spew again, Finn lifts his head from the toilet. Burt flushes for him, as Finn slumps back against the bathroom wall. Burt slows sits down next to him and holds a hand to his forehead. Burt looks pretty worried and now Finn feels bad for kinda thinking Burt was being an asshole earlier.

“No fever,” his step-dad confirms.

“I, um, think, it’s something I ate,” Finn lies badly, cringing.

“Maybe just overindulged,” Burt half-laughs, giving him a gentle pat on the thigh, “feeling any better?”

“Yeah,” Finn nods. And the thing is, he does. He feels kinda light and free and in control, which is weird.

“Alright, let’s get you back in bed,” Burt stands and offers him and hand.

“Ok,” he nods and accepts.

*

Ever since the burger incident, he’s felt more in control. He’s been running laps on the school track every morning instead of breakfast and he’s eating less at dinner and lunch. The puking thing was just a one off – kind of a way to kick start his diet. He’s totally going to lose weight for real this time, so he’s feeling pretty good about this plan.

Plus, Finn‘s kinda getting awesome at this whole spying thing and ok, so he knows, it’s probably not cool, that he’s outside the classroom listening in to Rachel’s girl talk but hey, he’s not totally down with her telling all of the glee girls that they’re gonna _do it_ so he thinks it’s a fair trade.

Until he hears Santana.

“Finn is _terrible_ in bed. It was like being smothered by a sweaty out-of-breath sack of potatoes that someone soaked in body spray.”

That’s when he has to walk away, because ok, he’s trying, but then she has to go and be honest and tell it like it is and he feels like all of his hard work’s for nothing because big guys like him don’t suddenly get skinny.

Her words sit there in the back of his brain all day and he can’t concentrate. In fourth period Spanish he gives up and sticks his hand up.

“Mr. Schue, can I go to the bathroom?”

“Yes, fine, Finn but be quick,” Mr. Schue doesn’t even turnaround from the board. Finn gets up and heads to the men’s room. Before he even really knows what he’s doing, he’s on his knees in a stall with his fingers down his throat. Fuck clichés, he thinks as he leans over the toilet and breaths in sharply, suddenly bringing up his lunch.

He flushes and wash his hands. He walks out of the bathroom feeling calmer, walking with his shoulders back. This is going to work.

*  
Cooter’s coming to watch him play. He doesn’t eat at all that day. It’s stupid but he knows today’s a big day. Extreme measures are required.

Of course it doesn’t help. Cooter doesn’t want a giant, gross, cunt like him on the OSU team.He takes it out on the shower wall. By the time he gets out, his head’s spinning and he feels hot all over even though the water was cold. He sits in the locker room in his wet t-shirt with his head between his legs for half an hour until the dizziness subsides and he feels ok to drive.

When he gets home, he digs though the kitchen cupboards for anything and everything, stuffing his face until he feels ready to burst.

Then the doorbell goes.

Fuck.

It’s Rachel.

And sex is awesome.

But he feels terrible afterwards. He’s been such a greedy pig.

When Rachel goes home. He locks himself in the bathroom and purges until he feels empty. She’s amazing. She deserves someone who measures up. Making himself sick hurts, but he knows it’s what he needs to do.

*

He knows he’s a complete asshole, and that there’s no excuse for what he did.

He's been feeling kinda woozy and out of it ever since the dodge ball game and hasn't really kept a meal down properly since last Friday when she descended.

He’s been trying really hard and he just can’t take it.

 _Tubbs_

 _Lumps the clown_

 _stick a stent in one of those boobs_

 _Finn blubber_

And the words come tumbling out his mouth before he has time to consider them.

After she’s gone, he’s turns around and sees Rory’s face. The kid looks horrified, like he just watched Finn stab someone.

“That wasn’t cool, Finn,” Rory says quietly, “I don’t think,…I don’t think I want to understand this American trash talk, right?”

And he knows, ok, it’s just…fuck.

He turns and starts running down the hallway.

“Finn, where are you going?” Rory yells after him.

“Bathroom,” he mumbles under his breath.

*

Now, he’s lying on his bed staring at the wall, his cheek stinging.

His bedroom door slams open.

“Carol wants you to come downstairs for dinner,” Kurt monotones, anger rolling off him.

“Not hungry,” Finn grumbles.

“Fine,” Kurt turns to go, “don’t expect me to feel sorry for you Finn. What you did was despicable,”

And he doesn’t understand the word, but he knows what Kurt’s trying to say. He doesn’t respond. He listens to Kurt leave and stares at the wall until he falls asleep.

*  
He sings an apology to Santana because he knows he’s been a giant dickbag.

Plus he should want to thank her really. She made him realise that he needs to sort his shit out and now he’s back on track. He’s made an exercise schedule and everything, and worked out when the disabled bathroom with the good lock is mostly likely to be free.

He’s in control again and he’s kinda over the slap because he knows how much it sucks to feel like you’re not in control and he gets that Santana has like no choice over how this politics stuff is going to go down and so he wants to do anything he can to make what he did better.

She forgives him even though he knows she shouldn’t.

Kurt does too.

The guilt sits heavier than food ever could in his stomach for days.

*

He concentrates on the diet to forget.

And his diet is working until he kinda hits a snag.

The week before Sectionals he faints in booty camp.

Mr Schue insists on calling an ambulance and when he gets to the hospital the doctor says he’s dehydrated and his blood sugar is very low.

He lies and tells everyone he’s been fighting the stomach flu for the last few days and can’t keep anything down.

His parents and Kurt all reprimand him for going to school sick and not telling them he felt ill.

“Sweetie, you have to look after yourself,” his mom says, running a hand through his hair.

 _I am_ he wants to scream at them but he knows they won’t see it that way.

The hospital sends him home that night and he gets three days off school. His mom forces him to eat soup and apple sauce, but at least no one questions him when he’s in the bathroom half an hour later throwing it up.

He realises then that his family really don’t suspect that anything is wrong beyond flu season hitting him pretty hard.

They haven’t rumbled him at all. No-one has.

He’s going to make this work.

*

He weights himself the morning before Sectionals. He’s lost a little weight but not enough.

He adds more time in the gym to his plan. This is going to work. It has to.

He purges right before the competition.

He and Rachel’s duet helps them win.

He feels in control and on top of the world.

Santana’s in epic bitch mode because the Troubletones lost.

He goes to offer her commiserations.

“Hey Santana,” he greets.

“Not now, Chubbs. Head back over to your feeder,” she points at Rachel, “I'm busy. The Trouble Tones are going to get our drink on” she snaps at him.

Her words make the determination stir deep in his stomach, the familiar churning sensation starting. He knows that he needs her insults. He needs her honesty to make him work harder. Without her, he’d be a great big fat ass forever. But now he’s doing something to make that change.

“Thanks,” he smiles at her.

“What?” she looks confused.

“Just thanks,”

“Whatever, Krispy Kreme,” she rolls her eyes and walks away.

Sure she’s confused. But she helped him see what was wrong. She helped him see what he needs to change and she deserves to know that he’s thankful. Everything is going to be ok now.

 

He’s in control.

**Author's Note:**

> As much as this is a Finn story, I have tried to show that he was also wrong to out Santana, so even though this explores the effects that her bullying could have on him it equally isn't meant to condone his actions.
> 
> :)  
> diva


End file.
